An unpleasant story of sexual domination and slavery, told entirely in dialogue, by Hugh Masters. Contact: questorius@yahoo.com.uk
Chattel n. 1. an item of personal moveable property such as furniture, domestic animals etc. 2. goods and chattels, personal property.(from Old French chatel, personal property.)
I must say, you seem very relaxed in London traffic, Khaled.
Ah my friend, here is no problem after Cairo. There is madness! You English are so considering. Considering?
Considerate?
Just so! And so kind. The week-end at your farm in Sussex, delightful. All so green! Your charming wife, your boys, your horses...
Not my horses, my wife's. That is why she will not come with me to Cairo. Six months away from her darlings is not acceptable. Turn left at the lights here. I showed her pictures of your fantastic apartment, the terrace, the glass fountain, the palatial rooms, but even the prospect of living in such luxury would not persuade her. I fear my London flat is poor exchange for you.
I am sure I will be very comfortable.
Even though it is on the third floor, with no lift? You are a big man and not so young and fit as when we first met.
Nor you my friend, though I agree, you are not having the belly like me. My big unhappiness is that I cannot bring my pretty Abdul with me. Sometimes your English regulations are not so considerate. He was not happy when I explained about our exchange - and that I expected him to provide to you the - ah - personal services he gives me.
Well at least my modest flat can match yours in that respect. It too is "fully serviced" as you know. He's a good cook too but you will have to train him to prepare food the way you like it.
He too is unhappy to be having a new master?
I haven't told him yet.
By the Prophet, why not?
It didn't seem important. He'll do as he is told.
But what if he doesn't like me?
What has that got to do with it? A fuck-slave does not choose his Master. If you like him, keep him. If not, toss him out.
But what about when you return? Would you not want him to be there?
It's not a problem. London is full of fuck-meat eager to serve a masterful man - especially one who can provide a comfortable home and free meals.
Really? You surprise me. In Egypt it is of course easy to go to some poor village and to buy a pretty boy from his peasant father, no questions asked, but I would have thought it different in England.
Well, yes it is. Here it is not necessary to buy a house-slave, they come free! There are plenty to choose from and all you have to do is take your pick. There are always more slaves than masters so they think themselves lucky to find an owner. That makes them very amenable.
Amenable?
Eager to please.
Ah! I think I am going to enjoy living in London. Tell me about the peoples in the other flats. They are nice?
I hardly know them. We keep to ourselves and, remember, I am only here on Thursday nights as a rule, so I don't see much of them. There's a retired civil servant in the flat below - rather deaf which is good - and a couple of lesbians on the ground floor, one a textile designer I believe, the other a teacher. So no problem there either.
One night a week - so your boy does not have to work too hard for his food and shelter. The rest of the time he is free?
Er, yes and no. We have a simple arrangement. He is always to be there, naked and available for use at any time. Occasionally if I get randy at midday and can spare the time, I'll nip out here for a quick fuck.
So he is a prisoner? Always available in case of unexpected need?
Not quite. Always available, yes, but of course he has to go out shopping for food and so on. So he can come and go as he pleases, on the understanding that if I come and he's not there, he gets beaten. Simple!
Is that fair?
No.
What about your famous English "fair play"?
Oh those rules don't apply to fuck-meat. Turn left again in front of that parked van. This is it. A nice quiet street, trees on both sides, solid Victorian terrace houses. Number 36, just here. You can pull into the forecourt. We even have off-street parking, a real luxury in London! What do you think?
It looks very fine. Very respectable. Very discreet.
The mad thing is that property prices are so insane in London that one floor of this costs as much as your virtual palace in Cairo!
Oh, please, Michael, my humble home is no palace.
Just teasing, Khaled. Come on, in we go. Leave your bags here, the boy can hump those up later. This is the key to the street door. Be sure always to close it behind you. Now, ready for the stairs? ...
Phew! It is...quite a climb...much further?
Rest a moment. You've worked up quite a sweat! You'll have to train the boy to meet you with cold flannels - or an eager tongue.
He licks sweat, this boy?
He'll do whatever you train him to do. Only one more landing. OK?
OK. What is his name, this sweat-eater?
Name? I don't think I know. I just call him "Boy" and he comes running.
He sounds very obedient.
Oh yes. Very! He's been well trained. Here we are. After you... What the fuck do you think you are doing, boy, dressed in my bathrobe? Get it off NOW!
Yes Sir. Sorry Sir. I heard voices on the stair and thought if you had a visitor you might be embarrassed if I was ... like this.
When I come through that door I expect to find you naked save for your jock strap and slave collar. Every time. EVERY time, is that clear you stupid turd?
Sir. Yes Sir. Sorry Sir.
Out of my way. So, this is the living room, Khaled. Reasonably spacious. That's the good thing about these old properties - room to swing a cat - of any kind!
Is beautiful Michael. So elegant. So simple.
No glass fountains, chandeliers or gilded sofas I'm afraid. Two beers, boy!
Ah but such taste. This carved head is very fine. Is Etruscan?
No archaic Greek actually. From the Cyclades, but the archaic smile is like Etruscan I agree. Make yourself at home - after all it is your home for the next six months. And here's my "cup-bearer" with a cold beer to cool you. Cheers.
Cheers.
No, don't go, boy. Let our guest see you. What do you think, Khaled? Is the meat to your taste?
Very much! Very much indeed! The skin so white, so smooth. I like white skin. How old is he?
About twenty I think.
Slim, but nicely muscled too.
I make him go to the gym twice a week to keep in shape.
I fear my Abdul may not be to your taste with his brown body - though I chose him because he is pale by our standards.
Not at all. I liked Abdul a lot - and found him very skilled in bed and very eager to please.
But just look at those pretty pink nipples. Like rosebuds.
And they are marvellously sensitive too. And most unusually erectile. You have only to brush the back of your knuckles across them and they leap erect.
May I?
Be my guest.
Come here boy. Closer... Hmm, I see what you mean. Most impressive. They really swell up don't they, and just at the lightest touch. And what about between his legs? That swells up as easily?
Drop your jock strap boy, let the gentleman see.
By Allah! What contraption is this?
Have you not seen one before? It stops him getting an erection. He's a randy little bugger and I found he was jerking off twice, even three times a day. Now he has to wait for me to unlock him - it means he's always eager to see me.
Is it painful for him? It looks painful.
No I don't think so. A bit uncomfortable perhaps. It has this special key to open it. I guess you should have it now. Here.
Thanks. It goes in here?
Thats it, then the sheath lifts up and the two side pieces hinge open. That's it, simple really.
And he gets the immediate erection!
Yes, well, you've just been touching up his tits. I told you, he's got extremely sensitive tits.
Turn round boy, let's see your bum. Oh! I see he is not always so obedient, you've obviously had to discipline him quite severely.
The stripes? No, that was not punishment, I just like to give him a thrashing occasionally. Mainly because I enjoy it but also it keeps him in line - reminds him who's boss. I cane him about once a month.
How old are these marks?
Last Thursday. Today is Monday, so four days.
And still they look tender. Come here boy, let me feel. Ho! see how he is flinching when I handle him! Four, five, six weals. Only six, but you must have been very severe.
Quality, not quantity. That's what I believe in. Don't you beat Abdul?
Only when he has been lazy or naughty. Then I put him over my knee and spank him. Hmm, it would be interesting to spank this bottom with its already tenderness.
I don't think he would like that. He hates being spanked for some reason.
Are you saying I should not be doing this to him?
Not at all my friend. He hates the cane too, but what the hell, I like caning boy arse so he gets caned. If you like to spank, you spank!
I am seeing marks across his back and shoulders too. Faint marks. Old marks but not a cane I think? You whip him too?
Ah, that was for discipline. Yes, a month ago I guess. He was not here when I came and he paid the price. Would you like to have a look round the rest of the flat, Khaled? The bedroom's through there and the kitchen - what the hell, you'll find it. Upstairs are two attic rooms, one used to store junk, the other is locked. That's the punishment room. I don't allow him up there on his own. You'll need the key, here.
Thanks. I know you are wanting to get back to Sussex so I'll not be long.
I've just got a bit more packing to do before the flight tomorrow, but no hurry, take your time.
Master, that man is coming to live here?
For six months while I sort out the Cairo office, yes.
Take me with you Sir. Please I beg you. Let me be with you.
No. You belong here as part of the flat.
And that awful man can use me?
Of course. Just as he can use the chairs or the lavatory. You are part of the deal.
Please don't give me to him Sir. He's repulsive!
What's the matter with him?
He's fat and old and greasy and... and hairy!
Hairy? How do you know?
That bushy "Saddam" moustache, the heavy blue jowl, even his hands are hairy and the backs of his fingers! I bet he's covered in body hair, even on his shoulders and back. Ugh!
Well I'm afraid house-slaves don't get to choose the men who use them. Anyway, I have hair on my chest.
Just a neat patch of silky hair, Sir. I love the hair on your chest. That's manly. But excessive body hair is ape-like and beastly.
Shut up your silly chattering boy and get me another beer.
Yes Sir.
And better bring another for Khaled too.
Yes Sir.
Ah, there you are. Everything to your satisfaction?
Everthing is very fine. I see the cane hung on the wall over the bed like a permanent threat. That is good!
Like the sword of Damocles.
Please?
The sword of - it doesn't matter. And the punishment room?
Ah my friend, what things are there! Much time I will be spending exploring those many things you have there! I am thinking you will miss them in Cairo - or perhaps you take some with you?
I would not care to explain why I had such things if my bags were searched by Customs!
But I know a man in Cairo who can get anything like that you want. Here, I am writing his address for you because my poor flat is not as well equipped as yours.
Thanks. Ah, more beer. No, serve your new owner first you stupid cumsucker.
Sorry Sir
That plaited quirt hanging behind the door, that is what is making these marks on his shoulders?
Yes.
Hm, interesting. I am thinking that you like that less than the cane even, eh boy?
Yes Sir.
And I think he'd like it even less from you than from me.
Oh? You think I would be more severe?
No, it's just that he doesn't like you. He finds you repulsive!
Sir, please! WHAT? What boy? You find me repulsive?
I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean... UNKFF!
Get up boy, get up. On your feet. Come here. I said come HERE!
I'm afraid you are going to hit me again Sir.
I am. Stand there. That's right.
CHORR! Oh! Help me Sir?
It's no use whining to me boy. You make your peace with your new controller.
So why you find me repulsive, eh? Is because I am Egyptian? What you call "dirty wog"?
No Sir!
You think I don't know you English call us dirty wogs? I tell you boy, you going to get wog fucked. Dirty fucked. Dirty wog fucked!
It's not that Khaled. It's just he has a thing about body hair and he thinks you may be hairy.
You find hairy repulsive boy? Come here.
Don't hit me again Sir. Please Sir.
I no going to hit you. Unbutton my shirt. Go on. Unbutton right down. That's it. Now open it.
Jesus!
You find repulsive, eh?
I'm sorry Sir. I didn't ... I didn't mean...
And after you get wog fucked, you going to lick fuck-sweat off hairy wog body. You got that, boy?
Yes Sir
I was going to advise you to keep him on a tight rein but I see you don't stand for any nonsense. I think he will soon know who's boss!
Oh, I rule him with rod of iron. Come here boy, put your hand there.
Jesus!
That my rule of iron! I rule you every day with that, often twice a day, sometimes three times.
Jesus!
I no like you calling on your Christian god like that. You show me respect or you are getting slapped again. You have too easy life here, yes? You live in nice flat and Michael he come fuck you once a week. Me I fuck you every day. Work you hard. I no English gentleman, I dirty fuck-wog. You remember!
Yes Sir
Well I can see you two are going to be good friends(!) so I'll leave you to get more closely acquainted.
Please don't leave me here Sir. I beg you.
Do not grovel to me boy. There's your master.
I beg you Sir, don't leave me. I'll do anything you want, anything!
Khaled, perhaps you could get this thing of yours from round my legs?
Boy! Come here! Do I have to drag you by the hair? You disgrace me in front of my friend! By the Holy Book I'll punish you for this - go to the bedroom and fetch me the cane. NOW! Michael, you want to stay and watch him getting his beating?
No, I must be going.
I'll drive you to the station. The boy, he can wait for his beating.
No need, really. I can get a taxi at the corner.
Are you sure? It is no trouble.
Quite sure. You get on with sorting out your boy!
Bon voyage mon ami. Enjoy Cairo - and Abdul.
I am sure I shall enjoy both. Adieu.
As he walked down the stairs he smiled to himself, hearing the steady thwuck...thwuck...of the cane striking bare flesh from behind the closed door. There was no doubt in his mind that after six months of being bruised and broken by this brutal Egyptian he'd have to find a replcement slave boy - one who was not bloated with wog spunk too! Michael didn't much fancy using another man's left offs.
Perhaps, he mused, it would be interesting to advertise on the Internet for something young and fresh and eager to serve. As he settled into the taxi he allowed himself the indulgence of a sexual fantasy in which half a dozen "Applicants for Servitude" were lined up for interview: "Next!.. Name?.. Strip." Hmm, nice...